Chapter 19,
Chronicle III - Dragon in the Wings

By William Black



Morion looked at Morgan expectantly. "What's wrong. What do you know that you're not telling me?"

The Falconer looked petrified. "My Lady, I don't understand. One of my men kept Arrow in view at all times. Moments before the demons started to turn away, my man reported that Arrow seemed stricken. As if an unseen shot had pierced him. They reported that the great eagle seemed to be having difficulties staying aloft." ... He looked down at Arrow's broken body, "I can't explain it."

Morgan answer, her voice tinged with bitterness, "He would not talk to me, not one word was spoken about his intent." Tears slowly trickled down her blood-streaked cheeks.

Once again Morion turned to her trusted friend; comprehension slowly dawning on her. "What you are not saying is that Arrow's death is linked with Will. That...." The words would not come. Part of her mind and heart refused to accept the truth that was presenting itself. She looked down at the shattered remains of Arrow, her vision fogging with tears.

The burden of sorrows made her dizzy. She saw the devastation of the battle all around her; moans and screams still echoing in her ears. So she wasn't paying any attention to the sound of hoofs approaching the circle of onlookers. Her brain felt numb and void. A whispered fear growing in strength within her heart.

"Magic has failed. With the death of the Druid, an age is passing."

Both Morion and Morgan could not, or would not, take their eyes from the grisly scene before them.

"My Lady...please!" A soldier pushed his way to stand in front of Morion, though his eyes strayed to where Arrow lie. "There is someone coming across the plain, and is almost here. He is leading a horse. I've sent two riders to escort him in."

Morion's expression changed and there was a flash of hope in her eyes. But Morgan, shaking her head, put a firm hand on the other and said, "It's not him."

"Why do you say that? Are you so sure of your feelings that you'd discount hope?"

Morgan looked down, bitterness still heavy on her heart. "Will seldom revealed all the intricacies of his plans. He always feared that if he brought others into his schemes they would either be in danger themselves or interfere with the ultimate outcome of his work." She smiled sadly, "And you know, even though it sounds selfish and egotistical of him, he was right. At least in dealing with his old mentor."

She glanced once more at what remained of Arrow, and then turned to Morion. "My Lady, by your leave. I need to go attend to my husband. His injuries are not fatal, but at this time I belong at his side." She could not accept her feelings, so she decided to walk away from them.

Morion looked at her friend with a mixture of disbelief and understanding. The breech between Morgan and Will was deep and wide. And from what Morion knew of it, quite understandable.

She nodded to Morgan, giving her leave to go to Sir Robert.

Turning back she noticed the circle of soldiers slowly parting and why. Coming ever nearer a man leading a horse and escorted by two riders walked slowly towards them. Across the man's horse's saddle was draped what appeared to be a human form, and on a stretcher behind a shrouded bundle.

Morion started for them, but the soldier by her side stopped her. "Wait."

She looked at him as if to object, but did as he said. The man was almost upon them, and she knew him for Sir David. The creature draped over the saddle she could only guess was Morlyn. And an image of a mangled druid, her druid, lay beneath the bloody shroud on the stretcher.

Her heart fell. Now she understood what Morgan had felt. She understood, as Sir David had, the sacrifice the Druid Knight had made. But still there was a whisper that not all was as it seemed. What had she and Morgan missed in all that Will had done and said. What had they ignored about his methods?

Sir David drew close, yet without even a glance he walked past her to where the broken remains of Arrow lay. He went over to where the bundle reclined on the stretcher and gingerly lifted it up and cradled it in his arms as if carrying a young child. Moving over to where Arrow was, he gently laid his burden down on the remains. Then kneeling down he buried his face in his hands and wept.

Morion, with tear filled eyes, walked over and knelt with him.

All those around waited in silent grief.

It seemed as if time itself fell still waiting reverently. Then Morion looked up. What had she heard? Was it her imagination playing games? There it was again! A cooing. The word repeated itself in her mind. She had heard it...a cooing as if from a Dove.

Shivers hit her like tidal waves. She had not seen Will's Dove since....

The white Dove flew low over the crowd's heads. It appeared that it was looking for a place to land, but was nervous about the throng of people milling about. Those standing there seemed to understand. Except for Morion, the soldier that stayed by her side, and Sir David, the others took a few paces back from where the remains of Will and Arrow rested.

The Dove took this as some sort of confirmation that they would not interfere, so it landed on top of the bundle that was its former friend. It looked around and gave a few more soulful coos. Then the oddest thing happened. At first it was just a easy breeze wafting from the place the Dove perched. Yet it grew stronger and started to raise puffs of dust. The breeze continued to gain strength and the wisps of dust started to form a column.

Those standing near grew nervous and quickly moved back still further. Morion, Sir David, and the soldier followed.

Morgan, having had a vision of the Dove returning, decided to rejoin those in the field just in time to see the funnel. See watched in awe as the dust devil rose ever higher.

The wind continued to whip around and the sound was like a cascade of water growing ever nearer. The column grew dense. A dark pillar joined Earth to Sky.

The swirling cloud engulfed the three friends; Knight, Eagle and Dove. Through the dust Morion thought she could see the remains of Will and Arrow rising along with the Dove, who was flying, or being hurled, around the inner core of the dust devil. Suddenly the hue of the twisting column changed; beginning at the base and rocketing upward. And it seemed to be growing cold. Suddenly blue flame burst from the Earth consuming the tornado and those inside. It burned only a moment and was gone.

All stood in stunned silence.

There was nothing left of Will, Arrow, or the Dove. The ground had been swept clean. No trace remained save for the awed looks on everyone's faces.

"What just happened?" choked the soldier at Morion's side.

She moved tentatively forward to where Sir David had laid Will's body. Morgan joined her.

"My Lady?" Morgan's eyes stared at where Arrow had been.

Morion looked briefly at her but said nothing. She was too grief stricken and dazed by what just occurred to give answer.

It was Sir David, his sorrow all but forgotten, that broke the silence. "Ladies...we must go. Now!"

Morion looked at him. "What?"

Sir David was looking straight up to where the column of dust had just previously met the sky. At first Morion could not see what he was staring at. Nor could Morgan. After the dust storm they'd just witnessed, the air appeared clear. The First Knight pointed up.

Then they saw it. "What the devil?"

"No, my Lady. That is no devil, but it might just as well be!"

Hurtling towards them was a creature few had ever seen, and of those that had and survived, never wanted to see again.

"DRAGON!" The warriors pulled out their weapons for a new battle. And the remaining archers drew their arrows.

Morion and Morgan looked on with fascination, their grief momentarily forgotten.

Sir David was already taking command, "Archers, at the ready! Wait for the beast to get within range."

"Sir, by that time it could spew forth its flame and consume us all!" cried the man that had stood by Morion.

"I said wait!"

Morion squinted her eyes to get a better focus on the oncoming horror. It closed on them fast. And then the dragon seemed to hesitate, hovering just out of range. The sound of its wings was as the roar of the ocean. They felt the air blasted down towards them with every stroke of its taloned wings.

"And I say, put down your arms." Morion turned her back on the Dragon and addressed her First Knight. As she saw they hesitated, she brought command back into her voice and spoke, "I gave you all an order. Now obey!"

Sir David and all those around him looked at one another, but they did comply. They put down their weapons, but did not sheath their swords, nor did the archers put away their arrows.

Morion turned back to the dragon who remained aloft just out of range.

"My Lady, what are you doing?" Morgan had moved to join her friend. "This Dragon may be as evil as the demon-kind we just battled, and ten times more deadly.

Morion turned to face Morgan, her eyes glittering not with tears of sorrow, but with crystalline recognition. "It's Will's magic, Morgan." She paused, not believing she was saying this, "What you see isn't a dragon...it is Will! I don't know how, but I do know for certain that this creature is Will."

Morgan looked past Morion and up at the dragon before her.

Regardless of what Morion said, this WAS a dragon. It wasn't as big as the dragons she had faced in the past. Nor like the ones described in children's Fairy Tales. Its body was muscular yet slender. It was bluish in colour with wings that were almost transparent. It wasn't close enough yet for her to make out much more, save for the fact that it wasn't horrible at all. There was a nobility about it. Nor did it appear aggressive, though you could never tell with dragons. How Morion knew, or thought she knew, that this was some kind of reincarnated Druid, Morgan could not fathom.

"My Ladies." came a whispered thought.

Morion and Morgan gave a start.

"My Ladies, can you understand me?"

It was Morion who answered, "Will?"

The sound of laughter rolled across the plain, but seemed to emanate from the dragon before them. It slowly flew closer. The soldiers readied themselves, but Morion lifted her hand as if to tell them to stand down. Still the dragon seemed cautious.

It landed a few yards from where Morion and Morgan stood.

"You believe you recognise me? asked the dragon.

Morion steadied herself, "You are Will, my Druid Knight."

A light chuckle rumbled in the dragon's throat. "My Lady...", the dragon seemed to hesitate a moment, "The one you knew as Will of Annsbury is dead. And as far as my memory serves, I've never heard of a Knighted dragon. As for the man you speak of, this I do remember: He knew of only one way to defeat his old mentor and understood that his own death would be almost assured." The dragon bent its great head down towards her. "Do you still think that I am that man?"

His breath was sweet and warm. Morion paused for a moment, then spoke, "Do you not know that I've met dragons myself, and am known amongst them?" She held his gaze, "But I'm not sure what to believe after this day of pain and grief. Only that you are familiar to me. We have met." Doubts were now entering her mind. She felt a tug on her arm. It was Morgan trying to get her attention.

"My Lady, this isn't wise. Please."

The dragon turned his great head towards Morgan. "And you..." its voice had now turned cold. "What say you?"

Morgan steeled herself and did not flinch. "You're a dragon. And dragons do not make friends with humans."

The dragon tilted his head slightly, "Really? Yet your Lady here says she is known among dragon-kind! Maybe she only appears as a woman, but in her soul she is a dragoness?" The dragon laughed again, but continued, "The history of Man and Dragon is as dark and vile as that between Man and Demon. Or even between Man and Man. But there is a difference. And as they say, actions speak louder than words. So pay heed Lady Morgan, and know me!"

The dragon looked up and around at the battle field. "Hear me all!" His voice boomed across the plain. "This day is filled with sorrow and pain, but also of great victory. Gather your dead and wounded. I will help carry them back to Morion and aid in what healing I can. For once upon a time I was a healer myself. As for you who remain, order yourselves into ranks and with Sir David at your head, march proudly back to your realm. Be assured, there will be time for morning, but you must let your people know that this victory was won not by magic, but by the strength and convictions of your own souls."

"I'll be damned, it is Will." Sir David said more to himself than those around him.

It was almost too much for those standing there. They had faced impossible battle with Druid led demon hoard, and now were confronting a talking dragon. It was enough to make even the most stout soldier feel sick.

Morion broke the spell, "You heard him. Gather up the dead and wounded. Make ready, we all have a long road ahead of us." Then turning to the dragon she asked, "How?"

William Black ©


Continues...


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